Page 4 of Unwritten Rules

Sensing my hesitation, Dr Jameson probes gently. “This is a safe place, Mila. Whatever we discuss here is private between you and me alone.”

He smiles softly, encouragingly, and with absolute understanding. So, before I can stop myself, I’m spilling it all, every last drop of honesty, no matter how bitter the taste.

“I think it goes back to before the kidnapping, though I can’t pinpoint when exactly. The events of that day made me certain, without a shadow of a doubt, that there was something more between—”

I stop, my eyes flickering up to my therapist. I’m hesitant to continue because I know I’m in his office instead of anyone else’s because of his friendship with my brother.

Because Taylor Jameson is an old school friend of my brother, Henry, and his best friends, Caden – and Nate.

“Mila, I promise you. What we speak of, no one else will ever hear a word. Safe place. This is a safe place.”

My mouth lifts slightly in something between a smile and a grimace when I continue to spill my truth.

“Nate took the fall that day, despite not having to. He protected me, and we… became something much more than friends – or at least I thought so.”

My voice drops to a whisper in my attempt to conceal the emotion behind my words even while I know I am utterly transparent.

“Over the weekends afterwards, we’d watch old movies and rom-coms. I forced him to watch that Reese Witherspoon one, Just Like Heaven, about a million times, and he never complained. I became an addict for a happily ever after.” I snort. “And he couldn’t tell me no.”

My nostrils flare, and my heart rate kicks up as I allow the memories to flow through my veins like grains of sand through my fingertips.

“It was between all that – all the time spent cooking my Nonna’s recipes and gorging ourselves silly on gnocchi and tiramisu. All those days spent debating Austen versus Bronte, Hemingway versus Fitzgerald, and all the silly conversations we threw into the mix. The understanding we had when it came to taking the life of a living creature, no matter if they deserved it or not – he just got me on another level.”

I heave a sigh and let my eyes fall closed. “And somewhere along the way, Nathaniel somehow became so deeply ingrained in my DNA that, at times, I wasn’t sure where he ended and I began.”

My brow slides into a frown as confusion openly dances across my face.

“I just don’t see how he could treat our friendship as something so easily discardable. I feel…anchorless without him. And stupid that I completely misread the situation between us.”

Dropping my head into my hands, I blow out a breath as I hear Dr Jameson stand from his chair and move closer.

When I open my eyes, I see him leaning against the desk, closer than before. His kind, empathy-filled grey eyes are fixed on me intently until my lids squeeze tightly shut, unwilling to allow him to see the depth of my pain.

“This is good, Mila. This is progress. It’s why I’m here. It’s why you are here. You don’t have to face these feelings alone. I helped you before—I can help you again. You just need to trust me.”

For the first time in six long months, I feel the overwhelming pull of despair ebb away. Just a little bit, but enough that I can relax my shoulders and maybe, just maybe, find enough inner strength to get through this.

CHAPTER 2

NATE

PRESENT DAY

“I’m pleased to see that you’ve fit right in, Nathaniel.”

Glancing up from my desk at the sound of Chancellor Branson Higgins’s voice, I nod and stand to extend my hand, my palm finding his outstretched one.

“Of course, I had a feeling you would. Your father always spoke highly of you, may he rest in peace.”

A tight smile and flared nostrils are the only way I can respond to that blatant bullshit. My asshole of a father most certainly never spoke about me to Branson Higgins, let alone highly, considering I was the biggest disappointment of his illustrious life.

“Speaking of Xavier, I’ve just had my secretary send the invites for the dedication ceremony – you’ll say a few words, I’m sure.”

My jaw tics as regret flashes through my mind.

Walden-Forbes is a private university in the Surrey countryside, funded in no small part by my late father’s estate. And if I’d just kept my hands to myself, I wouldn’t be stuck here now. I’d never have made the uncharacteristic, wholly impulsive decision to accept a damn guest lecturer position here.

Higgins withdraws his hand from my firm grasp and sits heavily in the chair on the other side of my desk. I just incline my head, neither confirming nor denying his request, before taking a seat opposite him.